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From Heidi Trautmann

The Life of a Woman called Ismet


When as a child you fell,

you would not show your tears,

I am sure. Your grandmother once said 

you should be given the name Ismet,


a boy’s name, to be protected,

to be strong against the storms

of the life you would choose.

How right she was…


You have seen the pain in your country,

the pain of fire among your trees,

the pain of lost identity….

and you made your hands take care of it.


We are alone in our room, always,

even though surrounded by crowds,

you said to me one day, and I heard you,

and made this thought my philosophy too.


In this room you keep bowls made of paper

to fill them with the hurt and the pain

which came with your life over the years…

and I see that you honour the pain like a friend.


Like a tree you draw your energy from earth

to share it with your family, your friends

and the fruit that you carry, your art

Will nourish and inspire many young ones.


Heidi Trautmann

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